


An Indecent Proposal

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackmail, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 16:46:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16453661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347
Summary: For DFW TropeFest!Assigned Trope: BlackmailDraco Malfoy shows up with an envelope of pictures and a simple request.





	An Indecent Proposal

Hermione’s shaking hands closed the envelope and as her narrowed eyes lifted to meet his gaze.

 

He was wearing that fucking smirk again. That one she had seen one too many times. The one she had tried to smack off his face third year.

 

“Just tell me what you want and get it over with.”

 

Hermione’s brow and chin lifted, her nostrils flaring slightly. Many people could call her friend… Draco Malfoy was not one of them.

 

“I’m not sure you quite understand how leverage--”

 

“Blackmail,” she corrected with a growl.

 

“I’m not sure you quite understand how blackmail works, love,” Draco stood, buttoning his suit jacket and grinning out of the corner of his mouth, “Blackmail, as you so lovingly put it, means I own you. There is no ‘getting it over with’. There is no end,” his eyes glinted and she felt her stomach plummet, “I. OWN. YOU.”

 

He enunciated each word perfectly.

 

“And what if I don’t care about what’s in this envelope? What if I say, release the information and be done with it?”

 

She tried for stoic, careless even… but her voice betrayed her.

 

Another gulp as he turned his head back and forth, studying her.

 

“I’m not quite that stupid, I’m afraid. I know that what’s in this envelope, which has been duplicated and stored in several Gringotts vaults, by the way, would destroy you. Would destroy this little picture perfect bullshit story you keep spinning.”

 

“My divorce is not new news… The Prophet has already ran that story. Why do I care if these images turn up?”

 

She was bluffing… and she was bluffing hard.

 

She cared.

 

She cared very, very much.

 

She had kids and a career and even though her ridiculous, sad marriage had failed… she wasn’t ready for the rest of it to fall apart too.

 

Draco’s chin tilted and he gave her an amused smile. He called her bluff.

 

“This was after, after Ron and I had called it off,” she shrugged, “ I’ll just come clean.”

 

“Ah, you could… but let me give you some advice, Granger--”

 

“It’s Weasley now,” she snarled.

 

He laughed and she wanted to reach over the table, grab a fistful of his platinum hair and bang his face against her desk; repeatedly.

 

“As I was saying, Granger, once the public sees you in a certain light… in a certain… position,” his lips curled around the word like a caress and her vision twinged with red around the edges, “it’s hard to see you in any other way.”

 

“I have children,” she growled.

 

“Oh, yes… your children. So important to protect their innocence in all this, at least that’s what I would be concerned with,” his voice was so thick with faux sweetness that her stomach churned. Every word dripping like molasses from his smug mouth.

 

She covered her face in her hands, accepting defeat.

 

Rose was in her fourth year, Hugo just his second. These photos would destroy them… would destroy their entire family.

 

Ron never knew… it had only been one night, right after things had ended between them. It was a stupid impulse after the kids had been dropped off at Kings Cross that year.

 

Hermione had realized just how alone she was going to be with the kids off at school. Last year, her and Ron had been distant from each other but they had at least been together. There was another presence in the home,  someone to tidy after and listen to after work. Someone that laid next to her at night even if he was always snoring by the time she climbed in.

 

Now, things were going to be different. She was really going to be alone.

 

To be honest, she’d been alone for a lot longer than she cared to admit. Ron had been fucking anything with a pair of legs to spread and she’d been pretending to ignore it for over a year. Finally, she’d walked in on him with the receptionist for the Auror department.

 

He had been fucking her on their couch at 6:00 on a weekday.

 

At this point, he just wanted to be caught, she surmised. She hadn’t lost her temper… didn't scream at them. Just waited for him to notice and shove his pathetic prick back in his trousers, then she turned and walked out.

 

She filed for divorce the next day.  

 

When the kids came home for their Summer Holiday two weeks later, Ron and her were in the same room for the first time since he’d found her shagging the young witch.

 

Ron had been positively buzzing, nervously waiting to hear what Hermione would offer as a reason for their split.

 

In the end, she hadn’t ratted him out. As shitty as Ron was as a husband, he was that good at being a father. She couldn’t be the reason her kids hated him. He sighed relief and then the kids had stormed out, marching up the stairs and slamming their doors.

 

Ron had gone to follow them as Hermione wiped a stray tear from her cheek curling up on herself in her favorite reading chair.

 

“It’s like you didn’t even care… when you found me and Margaret. Like you weren’t surprised…” Ron mused quietly from the stair landing, his voice barely registering.

 

Hermione stared at the fire, thinking of what to say. If she should be truthful or kind. She settled on the truth.

 

“I didn’t. I wasn’t.”

 

As much as Hermione had tried to forgive him, tried to move on… she knew he would never be so forgiving. This would be war and the children and her career would be the casualties.

 

They had called it off on the bloody marriage because he couldn’t keep his puny dick in his trousers, but somehow she was going to be the one who was made out as the whore. What a joke.  

 

Photos… photos of her with…

 

No.

 

She forced her mind to turn, to go anywhere else but to relieve that reckless night.

 

Her and Ron’s relationship had been strained at best and destroyed at worst these past few weeks since the children had left. They had kept this entire ruse going for Rose and Hugo, even agreeing to spend Christmas holiday together so their children wouldn’t have to divide their time.

 

She had to fix this… had to give him whatever he wanted to make this go away.

 

“What do you want?” her mouth filled with acid as she realized he might have a much more nefarious requests than she could imagine.

 

She shivered and he noticed, a delicious smile spreading across his face.

 

“Date me.”

 

She blanched, her brows furrowing.

 

“What? You want to go on a date with me?”

 

“No,” he chuckled, rounding her desk and leaned against it, causing all the hair on her body to prickle at his proximity, “But I do want you to date me. Like I said, once the public sees you in a certain light it’s hard to come back from that. What else would help ease my tainted public image, than you on my arm.”

 

That fucking smirk again. She wished she could slap him all over again, feel the sting of his cheek meet her palm one last time.

 

“Why do you think I’ll make any difference on your shitty reputation?”

 

“You’re a shoo in for Minister next term and while your public opinion may dip a little in the beginning of our...relationship,” the corner of his mouth twitched, “I’m sure you’ll find that I’m a charming socialite. This is actually quite mutually beneficial for us both, Granger--”

 

“Weasley.”

 

“Whatever,” he waved his hand dismissively, “What do you say? Be seen at a few dinners, go to a few charity events. I’ll cut your ties in the new year and send you all of your filthy filthy photographs for your own pleasure or disposal. How’s that sound?”

 

“The new year?!” she gasped, “You can’t be serious! That’s months!”

 

“Glad you can still read a calendar, Granger. I’ll assume we have a deal? I’ll need you Friday night,” he headed for her door and paused, turning again, “I assume you have nothing to wear. I’ll send a gown.”

 

“A gown? I thought you said dinner?”

 

“I said I own you, Granger. So you’ll be there at the Parkinson’s Halloween party and you’ll be dressed to the fucking nines. I’ll pick you up at 8,” he flashed his teeth at her, but she could barely describe it as a smile.

 

And he was gone.

 

The door clicked shut and she was staring at an envelope of dirty photographs.

 

Photographs of her in a Muggle hotel with Charlie Weasley. High definition proof of her skirt bunched around her waist, bent over the hotel desk, being fucked from behind by Charlie Weasley. Images that would destroy everything from her family, career and life in general, all in one swell swoop.

 

Photos that Draco Malfoy had multiple copies of.

 

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

 

She couldn’t believe she was doing this.

 

Why had she gone back to Charlie’s hotel… What a stupid, stupid witch she turned out to be.

He had been there to deliver his son for his sixth year and was heading back to Romania in the morning. They had just happened to run into each other at the Leaky and decided to share each other’s company over dinner and then drinks… and then more drinks.

 

He asked her up to his hotel room to look at something or other, maybe a manuscript or a stack of photos, she couldn't remember. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.

 

She was pressed up against the door to his hotel room as they toppled in on each other before she ever saw whatever it was.

 

That night was going to cost her more than she was willing to pay. She would be seen on Draco Malfoy’s arm, admit to dating him, lie to her family… She might have to be intimate with him. She didn’t know exactly how far he was willing to take it.

 

She slid the cold silk of her dress over her and shivered.

 

It was obviously gorgeous and very expensive, the black silk shimmered like it was wet and hung perfectly from her shoulders and cascaded into an open back. It had come with a sparkling masquerade mask laid on top of the dress as she opened the box.

 

She hadn’t realized it was going to be a masked affair and wondered if she might get away with being Draco Malfoy’s faceless date… something told her that wasn’t likely.

 

She stood staring in the mirror, her hair twisted up in a bun to expose the long lines of her neck and the mask laying open in her palms.

 

She heard a knock at the door and sighed, fixing the mask over her eyes and giving herself one last glance at the mirror as she left to greet her date.

  
  


 

* * *

 

 

“Granger,” Malfoy purred, “You look stunning, truly. Most moms your age have let themselves go a bit, in my opinion. You are the exception.”

 

Hermione’s jaw dropped and her eyes lidded slightly.

 

“Was that… was that supposed to be a compliment?”

 

Draco’s chin tilted slightly as he considered it and then he shrugged.

 

“Shall we?” he grinned brightly.

 

“How can you be so chipper when blackmailing me, Malfoy?”

 

She stepped out of her front door and locked it wandlessly, feeling him come up behind her, his finger trailing down her spine.

 

“Oh, Granger…” he chuckled into her ear, “This is going to be so much fun.”

 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and felt the pull of his magic as he Apparated them.

 

They arrived, her stomach feeling queasy, both from the means of travel and the anticipation of the event before them.

 

Before she could register what was happening the flash of lights assaulted her vision, crowds of people surrounding her as she stood in Draco Malfoy’s embrace.

 

“DRACO! Who’s your date tonight?!” a reporter yelled and she froze as his hand snaked up her back and rested lightly on her neck.

 

“Come on, Granger. Let’s make it believable…” he grinned and she sucked in a deep breath, turning to face him, his mask still in his hands.

 

She thought of her children, of being named the Minister of Magic… and she forced a smile.

 

They were breaths away from their lips touching and as he smirked at her, she realized that he was waiting for her to make the move, to be the one to decide.

 

She steeled herself and leaned in, her lips barely brushing his. He smiled against her and his hand tightened firmly but not aggressively on the back of her neck and she gasped as he crushed his lips against hers, his other hand pulling her by the small of her back into him.

 

She didn’t want to, but her body responded, arching into his kiss and her palms resting on the lapels of his suit.

 

He pulled back with a wicked glint in his eyes and she stared at his lips curiously.

 

“Who’s the lucky lady Mister Malfoy?”

 

He raised a brow at her, an invitation...

 

She sighed.

 

Her fingers reached up to the ribbon tied neatly below her bun and let her mask fall into her open palm.

 

As she lifted her face to the dozens of cameras and reporters, there was an audible gasp amongst them, followed by a beat of silence. Then as if a wave crashed around them, the flashes of the cameras and the shouting of the reporters continued, all shouting questions about how long they had been seeing each other, if it was serious and if Ron or Pansy knew they were dating.

 

He squeezed her into his side and gave them his best smoldering smirk and she took a deep breath and looked at him, deciding in her mind to embrace this stupid situation for what it was before smiling brightly at the crowds of journalists.

 

This was going to be a very long couple of months.  

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to DFW for the terrifying experience of writing for a blind trope. It was hella hard but fun! I actually kind of hope to expand on this one shot someday. 
> 
> Thanks to my Beta's for this piece: SweetLilBullet and thedarklordherself . You guys are my angels and I so appreciate it!
> 
> I also searched for some writing prompts to get me started here and felt the most drawn to this one, although I've changed it a bit. 
> 
> “Just tell me what you want and get it over with.” The hero did their best to sound stoic, uncaring.  
> The villain hummed. “I don’t think you quite understand how leverage works.” They walked over to the hero, caressing their fingers along the hero’s cheek just to watch them try not to flinch. They cupped their chin and pulled them in for a sweet, chaste kiss. The hero kissed back, harder, assuming this was the price to pay. The villain murmured next against their lips. “Leverage works as I own you. There’s no getting it over with. It’s not one thing and your problem goes away, baby. Not anymore.”
> 
> https://the-modern-typewriter.tumblr.com/post/159559566928/blackmail-prompts


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